Shot to the Heart
by DarkPoppet
Summary: Sam is struggling to control Dean on a job that started off as typical, except the deeper in the job, the more extreme Dean’s antics become. When something goes horribly wrong, Sam realizes he may not be able to save Dean.
1. Chapter 1

Tom Watkins nervously put his car into park. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest. He was seriously starting to doubt his sanity. He was meeting a girl he'd met online for a date. He sighed heavily. He wasn't bad looking, but he had no luck with women. The internet thing had seemed like a good idea. And she had a beautiful voice. He glanced up and down Main Street. It was just after nine thirty and the small town was already asleep. A few bar windows glowed a neon blue or other color, but the shops were closed. He didn't see any sign of her as he glanced around.

He climbed out of his car and pulled his jacket closer to his shoulder. The cool autumn breeze was chilly. Another reason he thought it was strange she wanted to meet here. He walked around to the passenger side of the car and pulled out the bouquet of flowers. He'd picked out simple carnations, daises, and baby's breath. Flowers were probably over doing it, but he was just tired of being alone. Even if she was company for a little while, that would be better than being alone.

With the flowers cradled in his arm, he turned and gasped, startled by her as she was suddenly standing behind him. She was just as beautiful as her pictures.

"Hello Tom," she purred. Her voice was like pure silk.

"Are those for me?"

He nodded, wishing his throat would loosen up, so he could say something instead of just gawking at her. He couldn't help it, his eyes ravaged over her curves. Remember that this was likely to get him slapped, he looked up again. She was still smiled as she accepted the flowers.

"S-so, what are we doing tonight?"

She smelled the flowers and glanced at him through thick lashes. "It's a surprise."

He nodded. His voice refusing to work. He turned towards his small blue car then back around, she was gone.

"Myra?" he called softly.

"Over here."

He jerked his head towards the soft voice. The words were followed by a light giggle coming from an alley way.

His hands shoved in his pocket, Tom followed. His mind was racing, he couldn't believe how breath taking she was. He rounded the corner of the building and looked down the alley, it was completely cast in dark shadows. "Myra?"

"I'm down here," she called.

Tom walked towards her voice. He glanced over his should as the slim rectangle that lead back to the street, towards the light. Then he felt the pain in his arms, it was as if something has dug nails into both of his forearms and dragged him forward. He started to scream, but his mouth was covered by something wet and hot. His brain screamed in pain as a darkness thicker than the shadows covered him, suffocating him, until there was nothing more.

#

Dean Winchester unfolded the thin newspaper, the paper crinkled in a satisfying way that was lost when he read news articles online. All the technology was for his younger brother Sam. There was something about the feel of the paper, the smudges of the ink, the smell of it all that he enjoyed. There were so few pleasures in his life, he reveled in this one.

He stretched out his legs on the bed and leaned back against the headboard. He was midway through his paper when the green motel room door swung back.

His brother Sam shouldered his way into the room, a large paper brown sack hugged to his broad chest. Dean peered eagerly at the bag. Maybe Sam had some beer, or snacks. He grinned at this, maybe Sam had jerky. As his brother kicked the door shut and flicked the locks, Dean felt his moment of hope fall, out of the top of the bag something leafy and green leaned over the edge.

"What in the hell did you buy?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged and set the bag down on the amazingly clean table. He was impressed. Usually, within ten minutes of checking in, Dean managed to cover everything in hunting gear. It wasn't the typical kind of hunting gear, sure they had shotguns, knives, bullets, but their bullets were silver, their shells were rock salt, and the assortment of knives they had bested any top chef's collection.

Sam took advantage in the empty table and started to empty his grocery bag. He laid carrots, celery, cucumbers, and peppers into one pile, then pulled out a case of strawberries, some applies and a couple of oranges.

Dean's face had not relaxed, if anything, he'd furrowed his eyebrows so hard he'd cast his green eyes in shadows. "What's that?"

Sam smirked and held up an apple. "This is called fruit."

"I know what fruit is, why are you buying it?"

Sam shrugged as he folded the bag and dropped it to the floor. "I'm tired of fast food. You even said you'd like to eat something that you didn't have to microwave."

Dean picked up an apple and took it to the sink, where he washed it then leaned back against the sink. "But I didn't necessarily mean stuff we had to eat raw."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "You're never satisfied are you?"

Dean bit in the apple, his cheeks puffed out with a mouthful of fruit. Realizing it would take more effort than a mouth full of fries, Dean just shrugged his shoulders and managed a grin. "Look at this, a man was found dead in an alley. His heart gone."

"Like ripped out by a werewolf?" Sam asked.

"No. Like gone. Not inside his chest. Just gone. No wounds. His heart had just vanished." Dean looked up at his brother.

Sam was staring quizzically at his brother. "You found that inside the paper?"

Dean shrugged and tossed the paper aside. "I looked on computer and got the police report."

"Where did it happen?"

"Right here in town."

Sam raised his dark eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. "Right here? Well that's convenient."

Dean shrugged. "It's a good thing we didn't skip town."

#

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	2. Chapter 2

Sam and Dean are unfortunately not mine, though they are used with love.

Thanks for the great reviews everyone!

* * *

Dean eased the Impala into a tiny spot in front of a Sweet Treats, a candy shop. The red and white striped awnings cast a shadow over the bright red door of the store. Sparkling glass jars stood in the window, their colorful contents bright attractions for those walking by. Dean leaned back to get a peek, but hurried to fall into step with his brother.

Sam pushed open the bright door and a bell chimed merrily. Candy pieces in vivid hues decorated the walls and the barrels lining the walls. A pretty young woman with long soft curls of caramel colored hair stood behind a counter and an old fashioned cash register. Her strawberry colored lips pulled back as she smiled warmly at them. "What can I help you boys with?"

Her name tag red Lorelei. Sam flashed the smile he had perfected over the years. A smile that was reassuring and comforting, it helped in his line of work that people felt like they could talk to him. "Yeah, we're—"

"New to the neighborhood," Dean interrupted. "Thought we'd take a look around."

Sam jerked around to face his brother, his dark eyebrows high then they narrowed as he realized his brother wasn't faltering from his story.

"So, what do you think of everything?" Dean leaned on the counter, a smile played at the corner of his lips.

Sam wasn't sure what was going on, but he felt a strong urge to smack his brother. He was used to Dean hitting on women when they weren't on a case. Sure, he normally flirted, but there was something in Dean's eyes that was making him very uncomfortable. She'd been the one who reported the body, and that's what they were there to talk about.

"My favorite is fudge," Dean said. If he leaned on the counter anymore he would be laying on top of it.

"I've got a fresh batch. Just give me five minutes."

Sam watched her go. His admiration for her rose, he rarely saw Dean lay it on this thick, but she didn't seem to notice. "Dude," Sam snapped when the swinging door slowed. "What are you doing?"

Dean didn't answer, he was staring at the door.

"Dean!"

He jumped and dragged his attention around to his brother. "What?"

Sam's eyebrows knitted in the middle again and he held his hands up in frustration. "What?! We're working a case, and you're trying to work over the girl who found the body."

Dean ran his hands through his hair, he looked uncomfortable.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know…she's…I just—so what am I about to try?" Dean quickly and easily changed topic as Lori came back into the room. His smiled looked like it had been taken out of a toothpaste ad as.

She held a clear glass plate out to Dean, four pieces of fudge were offered to him. Dean grinned at Sam as he picked up one of the sugary confections.

"So, what's the neighborhood like?" Sam asked.

"Usually it's pretty peaceful." Her face wrinkled as she glanced towards the door.

"What?"

"A man was killed the other day, in the alley. That stuff just doesn't normally happen around here."

"Did you know him?"

Lori shook her head. "No. I mean, I'd seen him around. It's a small town, you pretty much see everyone. But I didn't know him personally."

Sam nodded and looked at his brother who was still goggling at Lori. Sam reached inside his pocket and pressed the volume button on his phone, a tone jangled and he lifted it quickly to his ear. "Hello? Really? Okay, we'll be right there." He shoved the phone into his pocket and glanced at his brother then to Lori. "That was work, we have to go."

"But we'll be back to buy some fudge," Dean grinned.

Sam sighed gave his brother a little push as they exited the store. They were inside the Impala before Sam opened his mouth. "What the hell just happened, Dean?"

Dean looked as if he was coming out of hazy fog, his eyebrows were narrowed and he shook his head. "I don't know. There was something about her."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. It was close to never that he heard a tone like that from his brother. "We could stick in a town a few days after the job," he suggested, feeling awkward.

Dean made a face and shook his head. "So, what's next?"

"Coroner?"

Dean nodded and pulled the Impala into drive. He fingers tapped on the steering wheel as he directed the further down the main street.

Dean smirked as he eased into the parking lot behind the building. He realized his brother was staring at him. "Dude, what?!"

Sam's eyebrows had disappeared behind that curtain of dark hair. "You're humming _Walking on Sunshine_."

Any and all hint of the hum and his smile faded quickly as Dean shut the door of the Impala. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever," Sam called. He shook his head. If they weren't on e a case, Dean's behavior would be hilarious. Sam glanced over his shoulder; Dean still seemed to be singing a song inside of his head.

The coroner's office was the same as every other office they'd been inside of. Sam pulled the faked ID flip out of his wallet and flashed the picture at the guy half asleep behind a desk. Before the man could even glance, Sam had flipped it closed again and was glaring harshly at the man. "You should stand up when you get tired. Just because they're dead bodies, doesn't mean you get to act like one."

They pushed past the heavy double doors and Sam felt an odd twisting in his stomach. There was a body on the table, but this wasn't what he found peculiar, he'd seen enough dead bodies by this point that he could handle himself as long as he didn't have to _touch _it. What did bother him was the beautiful young woman sanding behind body. She couldn't be much older than Sam was, but she looked as though she should have been on a runway.

"Can I help you?"

"Health department," Sam stated. He looked over the body then back to the young woman, Melissa Farris. "Our office received a report about this young man."

Melissa raised her shoulders in a gentle shrug. "I didn't know the health department inspected possible homicides."

"Homicide?" Sam echoed.

"Yeah. This guy has no heart, nothing." Melissa glanced towards the doorway. "I think I'm the only one concerned about the face that he was brought in without a heart."

"So it's true about no markings?"

Melissa nodded. "I'm waiting on an analysis of his body fluids to come back from the lab, but something tells me this isn't right."

"How long have you been doing this?" Dean interrupted.

Melissa jerked quickly to look at him. "Going on three years."

Dean chuckled heartily. "Three years, I remember when I was that green. Listen, Melissa, with cases like this, you'll be better off saying 'no comment' until someone decides what they're going to do. I'm sure with the start of tourist season, the mayor won't want you coming to any conclusions on your own."

Sam felt his heart beat quickening as he'd watched Melissa's cheeks redden during Dean's lecture. Sam actually felt a little bad for her. Dean had showered Lorelei with praise and attention, but now, it was like he'd done a complete turn and wasn't going to give this poor girl a chance. "Have you finished your report?"

She nodded and handed it to them. "If that's all you need, have a good day, gentlemen." She pulled the sheet over the man's head and turned from them.

#

They stopped at a small diner to get something to eat, then they went back to their motel. Sam and Dean trudged slowly to the second level of the hotel and around the top balcony. They came to their room and made their way inside.

"Sammy, I'm going to bed," Dean announced, pulling his shirt over his head.

Sam felt like he always did when a case felt like it was at a dead end, helpless, and he hated it. He nodded, deciding that bed would probably be their best option.

Sam felt like he hadn't been asleep long when something inside the room woke him up. He raised his long frame off the bed and glanced around. His fingers snaked under the pillow for the blade he'd kept there. A movement at the window caught his attention.

Dean had opened the window wide and was leaning out of it. Sam pushed the covers back and slowly stood up. There was nothing there. He got an uneasy twist in his stomach. At least nothing he could see.

"Dean?" he called softly, he didn't want to startle his brother.

If Dean heard him, he ignored him. As Sam drew closer, he realized his brother's feet were already on the railing of the balcony.

Dean's right leg swung up suddenly, _over_ the balcony rail.

"Dean!"

#

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	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the great reviews, everyone! I tired to make sure that I got all the suggestions!

Hope you all enjoy!

#

Both Winchesters were lying on their back on the small concrete balcony. Sam could feel his heart pumping furiously inside his chest as his long pulled in ragged breaths. He wasn't sure how he was lying on the floor beside his brother now except that he'd seen Dean looked towards the ground and some kind of confusion had crossed his face.

"Thought you didn't like heights?"

"Flying. I don't like flying. It's done from heights."

"So, you don't like them by association?"

"Something like that."

Sam sat up and watched his brother pull himself to his feet. "What's going on, Dean?"

He bit his lip, holding back on the instinctive smart-ass remark that usually spilled from his mouth. He finally shrugged. "No idea, Sammy. Maybe we've got something with sleepwalkers."

Sam raised his eyebrows then stood up. He dusted dirt from his boxers and tugged at his t-shirt. "Something's not right with the case."

"That's the way it is with most of our cases. If things were right, it wouldn't be our kind of case."

He had a point. But that didn't make the situation any better.

"Let's get some more sleep while we can. We'll figure out what we're dealing with tomorrow."

#

Dean was a pain in the ass when they were researching. He liked to take a gun, a knife, a can of gasoline, or a shovel and rush in without stopping. His 'less talk, more action' attitude worked in some situations. Particularly the ones where they were dealing with something obvious. But it was cases like this, cases they hadn't encountered and cases Dad hadn't encountered, that Dean was like a caged cat. He'd skimmed through four books, and was now pacing the back of the town library wringing his hands.

Sam had leaned to deal with this a long time ago, but it was when Dean was particularly restless and distracting that Sam found his brother hard to deal with.

"We need more to go on," he muttered.

"So, what you want another attack?"

For a moment Sam was afraid the answer was going to be yes, then he saw his brother shake his head. "No. I just wish we knew more."

"We have his address."

Dean nodded. "But he was attacked at the street, we checked there. Nothing significant. But if you're ready to pull your nose out of those books, I say let's go."

Sam closed the book and gathered the rest into his arms.

"Don't worry about it," a soft, friendly voice called.

Sam glanced quickly behind him. A young woman about their age smiled and walked over to them.

"I'll get them. It will give me something to do." She flashed him another large grin as she took the books from him and turned away.

Sam watched her walk and shook his head, for a moment he'd felt like he couldn't turn away. Dean was already half way out the door and Sam half ran to catch up with him.

"Have you noticed anything about the women here?" Sam asked. His voice was low. He glanced up and down the street, with was deserted.

"What do you mean?"

"The three we've come into contact have been extremely beautiful."

Dean chuckled deep in his throat. "And is there a problem with that?"

With his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, Sam held them away from his body and shrugged. "It's just _different_, Dean."

"There's nothing wrong with beautiful women, Sammy. Maybe you've been on the road too long."

They climbed inside the car and Sam stared out the window. He hated trying to discuss anything semi serious with his brother if it involved women.

Tom Watkins lived in a small one story house a block away from the town hospital. It was easy to break into the door. One swipe of a credit card and the door slid open. Sam glanced over his shoulder and side stepped into the house.

"Honey, I'm home," Dean called.

The brothers moved forward into the house. Various stacks of papers were scattered about the living room. Sam sat down at the computer and flicked on the screen. Dean rolled his eyes and shifted through the papers.

He was slightly amused. Things often moved easier with Sam's knowledge of computers. Sam would sit at the small for hours and manage to hack into people's lives. Dean wandered through the rooms of the small house, he preferred to look for things he could touch, things that just seemed more read. He stopped in the bedroom. A plain bedroom with a small, twin sized bed.

"He was meeting a girl he met online," Sam called.

Dean came back into the living room. "What did you find?"

Sam turned the screen towards him. "A girl named Myra. Here's a picture. They've talked for a while. And I've got a phone number."

Dean nodded and picked up the phone. "Let's call."

Sam read off the number, Dean waited and bobbed his head to the ringing of the phone.

"The phone number you are trying to reach has been disconnected."

He snapped the phone shut and looked at his brother. "Dead number."

"So, we've got a lead?"

"We've got a picture of something in its human form." Dean pocketed his phone. "What do we know of that can remove a heart without leaving any marks?"

#

Dean was ready to smash his fist through a wall. Or at least shoot some cans off a fence. Sam was hard at work being Sam. Dean finally snatched up the print out of the girl, Myra. "I'm going out."

He folded the page and thrust it into his pocket.

Outside the hotel, the late afternoon air was crisp. Dean's boots slapped against the concrete as he made his way towards the candy shop on Main Street.

As he neared the sweets shop, Dean found himself glancing at the reflective surfaces of the windows. He rumpled his hair then adjusted his shirt and his jacket.

A warm yellow light shone from the windows. He pushed the door open and felt a smile crossing his lips as he saw Lorelei standing behind the counter.

"Come back for your fudge?"

"That and some other things."

There was a glint in her eyes when he said that. "Do I get to know your name?"

"Dean." He was a little confused about the way his name rushed out of his mouth. He hadn't even considered giving her one of the typical fake names.

"I'm Lorelei." She glanced at her name tag and smiled. "You can call me Lori."

Dean pulled the picture out of his pocket and handed it to her. He watched her face fall when her large brown eyes skimmed over the picture. "Do you know who this is?"

Her warm and welcoming demeanor faded. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "No idea."

Dean flashed her a smile. "I'm not looking for her for the reasons you think. She's a friend of my brother."

She tilted her head to the side. She seemed to accept that answer, but she didn't warm back up to him. "Do you like chocolate, vanilla, or peanut butter fudge?"

"What's your favorite?"

"Peanut Butter." A smile wrapped around her lips. "With nuts."

Dean felt a warm sensation rushing over him, he was half tempted to climb over the counter and grab the girl. "What time do you get off?"

"Store closes at eight."

"Do you want to get dinner?" The words were coming out of his mouth but he didn't believe it. He was not a sit down and have dinner kind of guy. He was go to a bar, then back to her place kind. He didn't want to leave her, just not yet.

There was something that was pulling him towards her. Something that mean he just couldn't leave.

#

Sam sighed deeply and pushed the laptop across the table, away from him. He rubbed the back of his large calloused hand across his eyes then he stretched. He glanced at his watch and sat up. It was after eleven. He glanced at the door and frowned. He picked up his cell and dialed his brother's number.

The called rolled to voicemail and Sam snapped it shut. He'd call Dean again in five minutes.

Sam tapped his fingers on the table top. His long fingers landed on the pages he'd printed out. Potential culprits for what was haunting this town. There was the normal spirit, but then there was the collective group of others, sprits who haunted mainly men. It wasn't uncommon.

But it wasn't good.

#

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